The Made Man
by Classic Sinful
Summary: After having his casino robbed by Carl Johnson, Don Salvatore Leone demands revenge. Please R
1. Prologue

Prologue

The Four Dragons Casino, Las Venturas, San Andreas

Fall 1992

"We all good?" Carl Johnson asked while walking towards the unusual duo closing the backdoors of a blue armored truck. He wore a standard, black and white croupier outfit and had his short, kinky hair carefully combed backwards. He was the muscle in the job.

"Yeah, we're good," answered Wu Zi Mu, the Chinese Triad boss, one of Johnson's newest and most loyal friends, their relationship the result of fine Eastern expertise and West Coast ghetto brutal force. He, who was living in his early-thirties, wore a respectable, deep black suit and matching sunglasses. He was the brain.

"Alright, I'll see you at the backdoor," Johnson said, looking at Zero, the computer nerd who was said to be able to blow up satellites by pressing buttons in his notebook. He, who wore his classic red cap, beige shirt and blue Bermuda shorts, along with his big, square-shaped glasses, was the tech-man. His eyes were widened, for what they were about to do would change their lives. Some for better, others for worse. "Let's roll."

Carl adjusted the radio's headphone inside his right ear. A short buzz was heard, followed by Zero's annoying voice saying:

"Carl, can you hear me OK?"

"Loud and clear," confirmed the black gangster, walking towards his car: a metallic yellow coupé with aggressive curves, stolen by him the past week. He opened its door and went inside, wondering if anyone would suspect a croupier driving such a vehicle.

"OK, we're en route in the armored truck," Zero continued.

"OK, I'm gonna get a move on," Carl said, turning the engine on and driving off. The Caligula's Palace Casino and Hotel was not far away from there, and the sun was just falling. The Strip would be crowding with tourists and gamblers in just a few minutes.

After parking the car one block away from the Casino, in order not to be seen by any security guards, Carl opened the glove box and picked up a 9MM silencer-attached pistol, checking its clip. Seeing as it was full, he picked up an extra one and stashed it inside his back pocket while using the other hand to grab a green steel cylinder from the box: a gas grenade, a crucial item for their plan to work. He stashed it inside another pocket, reaching inside the glove box once more and picking up a plastic card. A small picture of a smirking blonde woman could be seen in it, along with the name "Millicent Perkins" written next to it. Perkins, the woman Carl had seduced for nearly two weeks, was now his accomplice in the whole operation by providing him with her casino staff card. He figured he would have to avoid Security guards from seeing her picture, putting it inside his white shirt's pocket and concealing the pistol as well. As he was opening the door, he stopped and went back inside, reaching behind the passenger's seat and picking up a pair of thick, green lens goggles. He put it in his left pocket and wondered if his full pockets would not look suspicious.

He then walked inside the Casino which, in contrast to outside's typical heat, had a cool, welcoming breeze that made him more confident. All the blinking lights coming from the slot machines along with their catchy acute music and the blood red carpet gave him an unconsciously feeling that nothing could go wrong. Zero's voice interrupted his momentary happiness.

"OK, this is it. Play it cool, Carl, play it cool," he said, in an awkwardly safe tone.

"Hey, I'm cool!" assured Carl.

"Are you sure? You sound kind of edgy to me," Zero said.

"I'm cool, OK?" Carl said, annoyed.

"OK, OK!" Zero said, trying to calm him down. "Now, make your way to the staff door."

Carl obeyed, walking calmly towards it, glancing at the distracted gamblers and at the emotionless croupiers working there. He then remembered Salvatore Leone, the Italian Mafioso he was supposedly working for in the past month, making small jobs to gain his trust. He then thought of Leone's face when he discovered through the security cameras he had been robbed by his own small time thug. Carl never actually trusted or was fond to Leone, for his true loyalty remained untouched while working first alongside with the Triad, going as far as getting a share of their recently opened casino. Salvatore Leone trusted him, and now he was going to betray him by robbing his casino. Carl pondered about it for a moment, wondering if he was doing something that went against his own moral code. He remembered the one hundred thousand dollars he would get from the job and sighed. He cleared any remorse out of his mind and continued. After all, it was just business. He took the staff card from his pocket and slid it through the door's card reader.

"Ain't seen you 'round here before. You new?" asked a blond security guard nearby. Carl didn't see him coming, and cursed himself for that. He should be more careful from now on. His brain formulated a quick excuse.

"Yeah, I'm err… Standing in for Jerry, he's ill," he said. Zero's voice popped in his head.

"Who's Jerry?"

"Shut up!" Carl said, nervous. Carl cursed himself once more.

"What?" said the security guard, raising his eyebrows and wondering why that stupid croupier was shouting at him for no reason. Another word and he would bring him outside to settle their differences.

"I… I think I got Jerry's cough," Carl excused himself, quickly passing trough the staff door to avoid conversation.

"Great," Zero's voice was heard. "Next step, the backup generator room. It's down one level." Carl pictured the team analyzing the map he had stolen from the Las Venturas Planning Department days ago. Everything was going just as planned. He walked rapidly down a short set of stairs and saw a black, bald security guard standing near the Generator Room's door. With no time to plan, he decided to take a shot, walking slowly towards him and giving a quick, cordial smile. The guard looked at him expressionless. Carl went inside the room, walking far enough to make sure that the guard outside would not hear him talking.

"All right, I'm in the Generator Room," he said.

"OK, the ventilation grills are on the back wall," Zero answered. Carl walked deeper into the room and saw a ventilation grill attached to a wall. There was a hole where the other one was supposed to be. "Throw the gas down one of these."

"You got it." Carl reached for his back pocket and picked up the gas grenade. He pulled its fuse out and quickly threw it inside the hole. He heard nothing. Maybe because of the distance, maybe because nothing really happened. "We won't know if that worked until we get down there!"

"Yeah, well, don't worry about it," Zero's voice answered. "Right now we got a schedule to stick to. Head to the security door and use Millie's swipe card!"

Carl headed trough a door inside the Generator Room to look for the security door. As he ran down a set of stairs, Zero's voice appeared in his head.

"OK, good. I've hacked their emergency light protocols," he said, and Carl prepared to have the lights turned off. "I'm going to blow the charges you planted at the dam."

Carl remembered the day he stealthily infiltrated The Sherman Dam, near Las Venturas, and planted several explosives in their generators. The whole city, along with nearby small towns, was going to stay in the dark. He really could not care less.

"Here goes nothing!" said a nervous Zero. The lights went out, and Carl stopped walking. "Wow!" shouted Zero, excited as he could be. "I didn't think that was going to work!

"I can't see jack!" said Carl, leaning against a wall and reaching for his left pocket. He grabbed the night-vision goggles and put them on. The security door was just next to him, so he slid the staff card through the reader and opened it.

"Head down to the service bay!" Zero said. As he walked through a long corridor and passed by a soda machine, Carl noticed a bulletproof jacket hung on a wall. He took it and wore it. He finally reached an open space containing many shelves, which had many wood crates on them. A yellow forklift -not that he could tell it, everything looked green to him- was parked near a big rusty gate. "OK, we've got the power down, which mean the gate's unlocked," Zero said. "But now you're going to have to raise it yourself."

Carl ran to the forklift and turned its engine on. He had used one of those months before and knew exactly how it worked. After setting the forks right under the gate, he pulled a lever from the vehicle's control panel and started to raise it. As he drove backwards, the blue armored truck busted inside the room.

"Well done, Carl!" Wu Zi Mu said, coming out of the front passenger's seat. Another man, dressed in a janitor outfit and bearing a big moustache, left the driver's seat. Two other men, bald and wearing suits matching Wu Zi Mu's, left the back of the truck. They all carried MP5 sub machine guns. One of them, carrying two, threw one at Carl. "Now it's time for us to do our part! Try to stay close. OK team, I've gone over the layout to this place so I know it back to front. Everybody follow me!" he said, walking forward and keeping his left arm spread out in front of him. He was pushed back as soon as he walked onto a wall. Wu Zi Mu, the Chinese Triad boss, was totally blind, and from the group, only Carl knew that. "Damn! These devious bastards have changed the layout!" he said. Carl wondered if he actually believed that or was just giving an excuse. The janitor, who suspected Wu Zi Mu just couldn't see things well in the dark, said:

"Don't worry, I'll take the lead, boss."

"Good idea," Mu said. "Everybody, follow him!"

As the janitor walked through the same path Carl came from, gunshots were heard. Carl saw two men shooting randomly in the group's direction. He knew he had the lead with the goggles, so he took his time when kneeling down and aiming at the assassins' head. They fell dead to the floor, blood falling from the wounds in their foreheads. They kept their path, reaching a room and shooting several other blind Mafia thugs inside. When they cleared the next room, the janitor said:

"Not far now, keep alert."

"Hey, I was just about to say that!" Wu Zi Mu said, annoyed. His leadership had been slightly defied.

"Sorry, boss," the janitor excused.

"Not far now, everybody!" Mu said in a motivating tone.

"Stay alert!" the other Triad thug yelled.

"Oh, yeah, stay alert!" repeated Mu, who still kept his left hand ahead of him while going down a set of stairs. When they reached the safe room, one of the thugs took two remote mines from his pocket and started to set them. "OK, we'll set the charges while you watch the door," Wu Zi Mu said.

"OK, boss," concurred the janitor, running back to the door and covering it for potential menaces. Carl followed him and did the same.

"Hurry it up, gentlemen, they know something's wrong!" said Zero's nervous voice on everyone's radio. "Somebody else is in the system!"

"Hey, what's the problem?" Carl asked, aiming his weapon at the path they came from.

"Somebody's trying to bring the emergency generators back up!" Zero answered.

"OK," Carl said, quickly formulating a plan. "I'll head back up to the generator room and shut them down for good!" he then ran to one of the thugs, who handed him three extra mines along with a remote control containing only one red button.

After rushing through five sets of stairs, Carl finally reached the generator room's floor. He was about to crouch and get an advantage point when two bullets hit him in the chest, being blocked by the bulletproof jacket. He fell back and quickly got back up, shooting all over the generator room, the two mobsters inside it going limp on the floor, blood coming out of their chests and heads. Carl then ran inside the room and placed the mines on top of each generator.

It was only after Carl was going down the first set of stairs that he pressed the button. An outrageously loud explosion noise was heard, and pieces of metal flew over his head. He continued his way down back to the safe room.

"Everybody take cover!" Carl heard when stepping back inside the room. He quickly threw himself back and tried to protect his head.

"Oh, shit, where do I go?" Wu Zi Mu yelled desperately, running away. "Where do I go?"

"Fire in the hole!" somebody yelled. Another explosion was heard, this one creating a constant buzz in Carl's ears. He could see several dollar bills coming out of the smoke: Success.

"OK, people, load up the cash!" shouted Wu Zi Mu. The group ran through the recently blown up door and started to load bags with cash.

"Carl, you've got Mafia gorillas coming down to the vault and--" Zero's voice said in the radio, pausing and then yelling. "Curse you Berkley, curse you!"

Carl reminded Zero's technology archenemy, Berkley, who he had helped to fight against a few months in the past and wondered what he had to do with the current situation. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of gunshots coming from the safe door: three Mafia members had entered the vault room.

"OK, then, we about to have some company!" shouted Carl as he took cover behind a crane and started to shoot back, killing two of them easily in the dark. As he was about to shoot the last one, his bullet clip went dead. He threw the submachine gun away and picked the 9MM silenced pistol from his pocket, shooting the last mobster in the head. This one shot the roof as he fell dead on the floor. After this, two other mobsters came in, being shot at and killed by the group, who had already loaded up the cash on backpacks. They then left the vault room, and Wu Zi Mu said:

"OK, team, just how we practiced, two by two!" he then walked onto a wall. "Ow, fuck! Scratch that! Everybody follow Carl!"

The group shot their way through the basement, killing multiple Mafia thugs on the process. When they finally reached the basement garage, Zero was there waiting for them. Two police bikes, stolen by Carl for the job a week ago, were also standing there. The armored car had its backdoors opened. "I've unloaded the police bikes," he said. "Everybody in! You two, change into your police uniforms!" he shouted, pointing at the two Triad thugs. They both ran inside the truck and came out dressed in police outfits, jumping onto the motorbikes and turning them on. The janitor and Wu Zi Mu ran to the front seats of the truck and a few seconds later all of the vehicles were coming out of the building.

Carl ran to the service elevator: he was the team's decoy. Zero's voice came back on the radio.

"OK, CJ, you're on your own now!"

"Time to show these motherfuckers what's happening!" Carl shouted.

"Carl, would you like me to talk you through to the roof?"

"Anything that helps, man!" Carl said. At that moment, the lights came back on, temporarily blinding Carl, who rapidly took the night vision goggles out. "Oh, what happened?"

"Damn you, Berkley, damn you!" shouted Zero on the radio.

"Ah, c'mon, man, talk to me!" Carl asked.

"Now head through the casino to the elevators on the far side," instructed Zero. "Take the elevator all the way to the roof."

As Carl was running to the elevator, something hit him in the chest and made him fall back. A Mafioso, carrying a sawn-off shotgun, was standing inside the elevator. He was aiming the barrel at Carl's head when this punched the man's crotch violently. He fell on the floor, moaning in pain. Carl got up and grabbed the shotgun from the man's hands, running inside the elevator and pressing the "ROOF" button.

When he left the elevator, he was received by an incoming bullet from the air. Looking up, he noticed a LVPD helicopter flying by. He ran to the end of the roof and looked for the parachute that was supposed to be there while he tried to flee from the chopper's bullets. Another police helicopter landed on a nearby casino's roof and two SWAT agents came out of it shooting Carl. He then jumped out of the roof and pulled the parachute string down, activating it.

"I hate gravity!" Carl yelled. A bullet had penetrated the parachute and he started to fall quicker than expected. He rapidly realized he would not be able to reach the police helicopter landed nearby and escape. His chances of living had just gotten smaller.

His bulletproof jacket was heavily damaged, and would not stand much more bullets. After a few seconds, Carl landed the on top of a parked sedan. The helicopter light was still following him when he broke the car's window and opened it from the inside. He got inside and in five seconds managed to hotwire the engine on. He closed the door and drove off heading to the desert's abandoned airstrip.

The helicopter had ceased fire, and was now only following Carl Johnson with its searchlight. A few minutes later, when the airstrip began to take shape on the dark horizon, he had to make a decision or he would end up dying and giving out the location of their safe house. Carl knew he had to take a shot, no matter how desperate it would be.

"This is taking longer than I thought it would," Anthony said, grabbing another Tik-Tak chocolate bar from the panel and eating it.

"Sure is," Johnny said. The two policemen, both on the Leones payroll, were the first officers to arrive the casino after the city lights went out. After receiving a call from Salvatore Leone himself, their mission was to simply kill Carl Johnson. After they saw him leaving the city, they realized he was only a decoy leading them to the bigger fishes: the people that had the heist money. They figured that, if they could whack all of the robbers, Mr. Leone would be happy with them, maybe even sharing some of the money.

"Hey, look, he's heading straight to that wall!" Johnny shouted. Anthony looked at the searchlight. Johnson's car was speeding straight to a rock wall. They did not understand at first why did a giant light swallowed the when it hit the rock wall, but after seeing its parts flying all around the sand, they knew that Carl Johnson was no more. They looked at each other and laughed obnoxiously, flying back to the city to give Salvatore the good news.

Carl Johnson searched his pockets: it had to be there. He only had used two of them, so there would be one just waiting for him. After finding it, he placed it on the car's accelerator pedal and jumped to the passenger's seat while quickly looking at the speedometer. He would probably die, but would not be the victim of a police set up. He opened the door and threw himself out, covering his face with his arms, rolling and cutting himself on the merciless rocks on the floor. He looked at the car: it was almost there. He pressed the remote control's button and the mine inside the car exploded beautifully in the night. A few seconds later the helicopter gave up and flew back to Las Venturas.

After five minutes of non-stop running, Carl Johnson reached the abandoned airstrip. He could see the armored truck and the two police bikes approaching him.

"Zero, where you hiding?" he yelled, looking around. Zero came out from behind the truck.

"I didn't mean to tell Berkley, it just kinda came out… is all," he said, regretfully. He didn't have it coming when Carl's hand bashed his cheek and made him fall on the ground. "Will you watch it, you idiot!"

Carl Johnson laughed quietly. He was happy, after all. His plan succeeded, no matter the rocks on the way. Everything went nice and easy, and from now on, he would live a long, quiet life.


	2. Chapter I  Souvenir

Chapter I - Souvenir

December, 1992

Sweet's House, Los Santos, San Andreas

"Tempenny's dead, as well as Pulaski and the Ballas… Grove kings!" Sweet Johnson cheered. He was celebrating with his brother Carl and drinking wine from a crystal glass.

"And don't forget our cut in the casino, the contacts with Vinewood and the modshop in San Fierro," Carl reminded.

"Yeah… Even though Grove's our home, it's always good to have a backup… Damn, this shit sucks!" Sweet said, looking at the glass of wine and throwing it away, breaking it onto a wall.

"Haha…" laughed Carl. "Hey, what about a couple of beers over at the Green Bottle? You can call your girl and I'll bring Denise over."

"Aight, bro…" Sweet concurred, picking up the phone and dialing his girlfriend's number.

Cipriani's Italian Ristorante, Saint Mark's, Liberty City

"And he dared to fuck one of my employees to get a key card!" said Salvatore Leone, who had just got back from Las Venturas and was talking with Antonio Cipriani while eating spaghetti.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" Toni asked.

"And the security won't give the money because they think I'm faking it all… Fucks. I'll have to sell the Caligula's. Some Avery Carrington guy's already making some propositions…" the Don said, not paying attention to his employee. "Damn, this pasta's great."

"But what about the thief?"

"Antonio, this is special. Carl Johnson's not some small time thug. The prick controls half San Andreas with the Triad. You're my most valuable associate." Salvatore said, looking straight in Cipriani's eyes. "I want you to take care of him yourself. Clean and efficient. I don't trust anyone else for this."

"Triad? "The" Triad?" the associate asked.

"Yeah. Their boss there is Wu Zi something, close friend to Johnson. I've sent a guy check out their protection there, and I think we can take them. The Triad controls the Four Dragons Casino, from which Johnson owns a part, and a gambling house in San Fierro. They're at war with some Vietnamese gang."

"Fine. When do you want this done?"

"Yesterday."

The Green Bottle, Los Santos, San Andreas

"And then he said: "I got caught up in the money, the power…"" Carl said, quoting Big Smoke's last words.

"Shit…" exclaimed Sweet, shaking his head negatively. "I never thought Smoke would do that, man…"

"Yeah… As he said, that's what money does with people."

"Anyway. I heard you been making moves in Venturas," Sweet said, laughing. "That you ripped off some Italian guy…"

"Yeah... Thanks to Woozie and Z."

"Yo, I gotta meet this jap... He's form the Triad, right?"

"Yeah, and Triad means Chinese, dumbass."

"Yeh? Fuck, they all look the same," Sweet said, raising his shoulders. "Shit, where's the girls?"

"I dunno, Sweet… Denise wasn't sure she was coming…"

"Oh, what the fuck. Let's drink."

Sex Club Seven, Redlight District, Liberty City

Toni Cipriani was picking the men to do the job in San Andreas. There were ten Leone thugs in line. He walked to one of them, pointed his gun to the goon's head and said:

"What would you do if I said that I'm going to blow your brains out, with no reason at all?"

"Ah… I don't know, Mr. Cipriani…" said the man, hesitating.

"Get outta here, dumbass."

When Toni was going to aim the gun to the next candidate, the goon pulled his gun and pointed at Toni's head.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Toni said, smiling. "Get in the car, kid."

A few minutes and candidates later, Toni Cipriani had his group inside two black Sentinels.

"Follow me," he curtly said to the driver of one of the cars. He got inside the second car, filled with mobsters just like the other, and told the driver to go to the airport.

Grove Street, Los Santos, San Andreas

"Dude… What a night," said Carl. He and Sweet were drunk and alone, sitting outside their houses. They had just got back from the Pig Pen strip club.

"Yeah…" mumbled Sweet.

"Hey, what 'bout a race to Fierrosh?"

"Sure about that? I mean, we've drank a little…"

"Yeh, but we ain't drunk!" Carl said, negating his obvious condition. "C'mon!

"Aw, what the fuck, let's do it."

"Let's do it, bro," Carl yelled as he walked to his black Turismo and turned it on. Sweet stumbled to his blue Greenwood. Both Johnson brothers left the Grove Street, ramming their cars on lampposts until they reached the freeway and stopped in the middle of nowhere to sleep.

Las Venturas International Airport, San Andreas

A black limo parked in front of the airport, and a chauffeur in a matching uniform opened the doors, assisting the passengers to put their little baggage in the trunk of the car. Toni Cipriani sat on the backseat of the limo and opened a bottle of whiskey. One of the thugs sat on the front, along with the chauffeur, and the rest of them sat on the back.

"Hey, I'm Roarke," the driver said, opening the inside window. "So, what's the reason of your visit to Las Venturas, Mr…" he checked a paper from his pocket. "Cipriani?"

"Work… I'm visiting a client who lives in Los Santos," Antonio answered, quickly formulating a cover story. "But I have to buy a little something in Venturas…"

"What something?" asked the chauffeur. He had a strong redneck accent. "Maybe I know where to buy it, I know this town like my own hand! I've been living here since it was all desert!" he offered, cheerfully.

"Actually, no. It's a souvenir for my mother. You can stop by the Visage."

"Ah… Ok," finished the chauffeur, closing the inside window.

A few minutes later, the limo parked in front of the Visage Casino. Cipriani asked the driver to open the trunk and got out. He grabbed a square shaped briefcase and walked in Casino. He calmly walked to the check-in balcony and asked for Thomas Hanauer.

"You can find the manager in a few minutes, Mr. Cipriani," said the attendant. "I'll call him."

"Take your time…"

Some time later, a German look alike blonde man, wearing a dark blue suit and appearing to be about forty five years old, came out of an employee's only door and walked to Toni.

"Hey, hey, how ya doin', kid?" said the man, with a strong German accent. Even though Toni was almost thirty years old, lots of people called him 'kid', which annoyed him. "I'm Tom Hanauer. You are…?"

"Antonio Cipriani," answered the associate, who was wearing an informal black suit with a white shirt. "You must've met my mother, Mrs--"

"Ah, yeah, Mrs. Cipriani, yeah! She and I were great friends!" the man said, happily. "Anyway, how can I help you?"

"I need to talk to you," Antonio stated, and looked at the check-in attendant. "Somewhere more private."

"Sure, step into office," Thomas asked, smiling and leading Toni back to the employees door. They walked through a set of metal stairs inside a dark room until they reached a wide room; dozens of small TVs were transmitting from surveillance cameras inside the casino.

"Nice surveillance system you got there," the Italian commented. "Are they all over the casino?" he casually asked.

"Not everywhere, no… Take here, for example," Thomas waved and looked around the room. "No cameras, I have total privacy!

"Well. My mother sent me here to get her a souvenir, she said you would have it."

"Is it something from the casino?" Thomas asked, walking to a minibar and opening it, "Can I get you something to drink? Some wine, whiskey… A glass of beer, perhaps?"

"I'll take the beer," Antonio answered. Thomas grabbed a can of beer from the minibar and opened it, his back turned to the mobster. He started wondering what the woman he argued with more than twenty years ago -a discussion that ended up with Thomas calling her a "mobster whore"- wanted with him now.

Antonio opened his big briefcase. It was empty, except for the 9MM pistol with a silencer attached to its barrel, and an apparently empty black bag.

"She wants your head, Mr. Hanauer," Cipriani said coldly.

"Was das bum--" Thomas exclaimed, having his sentence interrupted by a projectile penetrating through his skull and stopping inside his brain, making him fall dead on the expensive red carpet. Toni grabbed the black bag and took a knife from inside it. He sliced the manager's throat with it and with a kick he broke his neck, making it easier to separate the member from the body. Cipriani grabbed the head and put it inside the black bag along with the bloody knife, putting everything back inside the square shaped briefcase.

"Job done, mom," Antonio said to himself.


End file.
